


Dewsigns by Dewey

by Anonymous



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Cliffhanger that will never get resolved ever, Drake is Trans and there’s nothing u can do about it, M/M, Makeover, Sorry if I forgot to tag someone it’s 1am, The charm is in the ensemble, This fic is mostly a joke, Update I did mess up some tags thanks to my friends, assorted headcanons, written pre season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23473390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Because,” Dewey explains, snatching it before Launchpad can back out of this. “You’re going to invite Drake over tonight while I give you the best makeoverever! Drake is going to realize that he wanted you all along, whether or not you’reactuallyedgy!”
Relationships: Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack, José Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles
Comments: 21
Kudos: 113
Collections: Anonymous





	Dewsigns by Dewey

**Author's Note:**

> Happy season 3 release day
> 
> We started this in November as like, a group and it’s entirely my fault it didn’t get finished in time. Like, we were gonna have embedded artworks and a whole ass musical number but that did... not turn out
> 
> Still! A lot of fun to write. I had fun w my friends

Launchpad was moping. He didn’t want to watch tv, he didn’t want to crash a plane, and he didn’t even seem excited when Dewey suggested they try to catch Duckworth’s ghost on film. Launchpad just sat at the dining room table, frowning at his phone.

“Dude, are you okay?” Dewey asks, realizing he can’t just distract Launchpad from whatever is bothering him.

Launchpad sighs. “You know Drake?”

“Your nerdy actor friend that you have a huge crush on? That Drake? Yeah, I know him.”

Launchpad stiffens when Dewey brings up his crush on Drake. It’s more of a reaction than Dewey’s gotten out of him all morning, so he counts it as a win.

Instead of explaining, Launchpad hands Dewey his phone. 

There’s a twitter thread open, starting with a tweet from Drake. It’s a set of two photos with the caption: “Look at the difference five years can make feat. @m_macawber”

The first image was of two young adults. The duck on the left was undeniably Drake. He was wearing an old Darkwing Duck shirt, with the straps of some sort of undershirt peeking out from beneath the worn collar. Drake had on enough eyeliner to make Black Arts Beagle jealous and was leaning on the other, much taller person in the photo. The other duck radiated elegance and charm. She was wearing a dramatic red gown and jewelry that definitely came from a Halloween store. The shoulder that wasn’t occupied by Drake had a massive spider on it.

The second image was of Drake and this woman again, but at an outdoor restaurant. It was very clearly taken with a selfie stick. There was gaudy text haphazardly placed over the bottom corner of the picture saying “Pajama brunch with Morgana!!!” Instead of his usual flannel shirt, Drake was wearing an oversized t-shirt that Dewey swears used to belong to Launchpad. Morgana(?) is wearing a matching set of pajamas that might have been silk. Louie could probably tell how expensive the fabric is if he asked him. The spider from the previous photo (how long do spiders live?) is between the two on the table.

There’s a reply from @m_macawber saying “Awww D, you’re so sentimental! 🖤🖤🖤” Her Twitter has a verified check mark; Dewey is 100% willing to bet that drives Drake up the wall.

He hands the phone back to Launchpad. “Who is m macawber?”

“I’ve never met her, but I know she used to date Drake.” Launchpad says, scrolling through tweets. 

The next one he shows Dewey is a tweet from a few months back that just says “tfw no goth gf 😫” and Dewey has to try very hard not to laugh.

“So, you’re sad because... Drake is into goth girls?” Dewey asks, passing the phone back again. “If you’re worried that he’s straight, I don’t think he is. No straight man would want to keep that Jim Starling guy in a jar in his closet.”

It gets a small, fond laugh out of Launchpad before he goes back to sadly looking at his phone. “Sure, Drake might be into guys, but everyone he’s been into has been really dark and grim. I’m none of that.”

Something clicks and Dewey looks at his sad friend like the stars have just aligned around him.

“But you could be,” Dewey suggests, standing from his seat at the table. This was all of the best teen movie tropes coming together right before his eyes. He holds out his hand dramatically. “Launchpad, give me your phone!”

“Huh, why?” Launchpad asks, offering the device to the excitable young duck.

“Because,” Dewey explains, snatching it before Launchpad can back out of this. “You’re going to invite Drake over tonight while I give you the best makeover _ever_! Drake is going to realize that he wanted you all along, whether or not you’re _actually_ edgy!”

Before Launchpad can even think of a response, the two are interrupted by a loud bang as Webby tumbles out from the vents.

“We’re giving Launchpad a _makeover_?” she asks excitedly.

“Yes,” Dewey confirms, pointing at Webby. “Go find more stylists while I convince Drake to come over later! Launchpad is going to need all the help he can get.”

Webby salutes him quickly before running out of the room. 

Dewey gets up on the table and begins composing the perfect text. It needed to be vaguely flirty but still inconspicuous.

_Hey Drake, are you busy tonight?? My best friend Dewey is throwing a party and said I could invite someone. It’s really low key, so just come dressed casually. Meet me @ McDuck Manor at 7???_

Dewey sends the text with little proofreading. It gets opened almost immediately and he watches with anticipation as the app indicates that Drake is writing back.

_Dewey, I know this is you. Tell LP I’ll be there. This better not be some sort of trick…_

“Alright! Drake is in! You’ve got a date tonight, my friend!” Dewey cheers. 

“I do?” Launchpad asks, actually sounding like himself for the first time all day. 

“Everything is falling into place. Drake will be here at 7, so we’ve got about eight hours to turn you into the creepy man of his dreams! Let’s check in on the stylist team.”

Dewey takes launchpad by the hand and guides him out of the dining room. He hadn’t exactly arranged a meeting place with Webby and the rest of the team, so he just pulls Launchpad along.

It’s the sound of loud music and shouting that eventually leads the pair to the styling team. 

“The Crow is way more goth than Parrot Jam! You’re just blinded by nostalgia!”

The yelling sounded familiar, but Dewey couldn’t quite place it. Webby must have more contacts than he thought. He smiles, happy that she was able to help out with this plan.

“I’m not arguing genre, I’m arguing quality!” Donald’s voice shouts in return. 

Dewey hesitates just outside the door to the family room. Maybe getting a team gathered by Webby to style Launchpad for his big romantic moment was actually a bad idea. 

“How about we just put on some My Cockatiel Romance instead?” Lena’s voice suggests.

“Can you keep it down? I’m trying to watch reruns of Ottoman Empire,” Louie complains from the other side of the door. 

“I think they’re in here!” Launchpad announces, opening the door, oblivious to Dewey’s internal crisis.

The family room was chaotic to say the least. Della and Huey were trying to hold Donald back from getting violent towards Black Arts Beagle, who appeared to be setting up a small hair salon in the corner. Lena, Violet, and Webby were sorting through racks of dark clothing that Dewey has never seen before. Louie and Mrs. Beakley were sitting on the couch together, both uncomfortable, but for different reasons.

Webby meets eyes with Dewey from across the room. “They’re here!”

All eyes fall on Dewey and he knows this is it, his big movie moment.

“Alright team, you’ve all been gathered here to work together to help out our friend Launchpad! We’ve got four categories to solidify his new look: hair, clothes, attitude, and makeup. Black Arts, Mom, and Mrs. Beakley can be on hair duty. Webby, Violet, and Lena are on clothes duty. Uncle Donald, Louie, and whoever wants a second job can be on attitude duty. Then for makeup we can do Huey, Webby again, and I guess Black Arts Beagle again. Any questions?”

It most definitely didn’t sound as cool as it should have in his own opinion, but Dewey is sure he’s given enough to boost the morale of the group. He waits a few seconds, desperately hoping that no one has any questions.

“I only have experience with special effects makeup,” Webby offers nervously.

Dewey frowns. He opens his mouth to try and find some inspiration for her, but shuts it again. 

“I think that just makes you more prepared,” Louie says from his spot on the couch.

“Louie is right! You have a special set of skills that not all makeup artists have. I’m sure you can pick up the rest easily!” Dewey reassures. 

“That wasn’t a compliment. I think this is a terrible idea.”

There goes the morale boost Dewey was hoping to incite. Dewey can see the doubt seeping into the team’s brains.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says, bringing the attention back on himself. “Don’t listen to Louie! This is all for Launchpad’s benefit. You don’t want to ruin his love life, do you?” 

Dewey gestures towards his best friend. “Launchpad has been sad all day. Do you want to be responsible for that? Of course not! We need more action and less doubting. You all have your team assignments already, we can start working immediately! Huey, since makeup won’t come until later, can you craft us an itinerary? Preferably one with food breaks already worked in.”

“I was thinking the hair team could work from now until noon, then we could break for lunch. After lunch, we could give the clothes team a couple hours, I’m still working on the timeframe details for that. We need to give enough time to the attitude team as well. After that, we could break for dinner. Then the makeup team could work their magic and have Launchpad ready in time for his date!”

“Do schemes count as dates?” Launchpad asks. “I’ve been on a lot of dates, but I don’t think any of those were schemes.” He looks up, and starts counting on his hands. “I think I’ve been on a few dates during revolutionary battles, at least three of those. I went on a date at an arcade once. One time I told someone I had a mustache, but I didn’t, so I cut my hair and super glued it to my face. I went to a wedding once and it turned out I was supposed to be getting married; that was a really fun date! There was that time I went on a date with Storkules…” 

Donald lets out a surprised quack as everyone else just looks at Launchpad quizzically. He doesn’t seem to notice everyone else’s shock, still mumbling to himself and counting on his fingers.

Eventually Louie takes one for the team and stops him. “Launchpad, if I have ever listened to a single word Uncle Scrooge has said about his life, I think schemes count as dates even more than normal dates do.”

More than a few members of the team echoed “normal?” in response. 

“Alright, we are on a time crunch!” Dewey announces, seizing the moment. “It’s time to get to work. We need the hair team in top shape, stat! Remember, we can Dewey it!”

Dewey and Launchpad walk over to where Black Arts had set up the salon. Launchpad takes his seat in the chair and Mrs. Beakley places the tarp over his clothes. Black Arts Beagle sets up an array of different dyes. 

“Okay mortal, Webby said that we’re dyeing your hair black for this makeover. That’s a big step into the realm of darkness, but you’ve got a lot of options,” Black Arts says, removing Launchpad’s signature teal hat. “There’s permanent dye, semi-permanent dye, hair chalk, colored hair spray, and cursed dye. We just need to pick what suits your foolish needs.”

“Right. So, uh, what does permanent mean?” Launchpad asks, looking at the spread of products lining the counter. 

Black Arts flips his hair and laughs. He places one hand on Launchpad’s shoulder and gestures wildly with the other. “Permanent hair dye causes a deep reaction within the very soul of your hair, potentially damaging its structure, and giving you up to two months of wonder.”

“Hmm, I’ll take it!”

“You, uh, don’t want to know anything about your other, equally thrilling and dark options?” Black Arts asks, unsure of how to deal with the reaction he got.

Launchpad shrugs. “Nah, besides, I’m kind of afraid to figure out where the 18 wheels come into play with the semi-permanent dye!”

Beakley sighs. Before she can try to explain anything, Della walks over with her phone in hand. “Let’s look at goth hairstyles while they do their thing! I know it’s a team effort, but watching hair get dyed doesn’t really sound exciting. Plus, it’s productive!”

Dewey pulls a chair over and sits down. He figures that his mom is probably right and this will be boring, but he can’t leave his best friend unsupervised during his big makeover.

Black Arts puts on a thin pair of gloves and starts mixing up the dye. “Tell me about this date you have.”

“Oh, Drake? Yeah, he’s one of my best friends,” Launchpad offers. “Is this uh, a hairstylist thing or an evil thing? I don’t wanna mess up and tell you that he’s the real Darkwing Duck if you’re just trying to collect intel for your family.”

“Ha, like I would be offering my talents to them!” Black Arts barks as he begins sectioning Launchpad’s hair. “Those fools don’t understand the true powers of cosmetology. I’m going to prove them all wrong, especially Ma!”

“That’s enough to convince me!”

When the dye is all applied and Black Arts starts the timer, Dewey turns Launchpad’s chair so that it can face the television and puts a 5-Minute Crafts video up on the tv.

Louie groans. “I already have to deal with this mess, now you’re taking Ottoman Empire from me too? If this video has the orange coffee hack, I will rat you out to Drake with no hesitation.”

“That’s a risk we have to take. This dye still has twenty minutes left before we can wash it out,” Dewey explains. 

The team settles around the screen, save for Mrs. Beakley, who insisted that she has to start preparing for lunch. She didn’t try to hide the fact that it was just an excuse to not have to deal with the plan. A repetitive pop song fills the room as the person on screen cooks eggs in the most ungodly ways possible.

“Why would they do that to a watermelon?” Uncle Donald asks, head in his hands.

“They just want views,” Huey answers with a shrug. “If people actually wanted to learn cool new life skills, they could easily find better resources.”

“I’m surprised Mark Beaks hasn’t made a knock-off of this yet,” Lena says as the actor on screen pours hot glue over a Waddle phone.

The alarm goes off after a few videos and the teams all get back to work on their tasks and preparations.

Black Arts rinses Launchpad’s hair out, careful not to let any residual dye stain anything. A quick blow dry later and Black Arts lets Della take control of the operation. 

“If you are pleased with the color, leave me a review on Evil Yelp.” 

“Uh, yeah, I totally will. Thanks, Dark Arts!” Launchpad replies.

Black Arts sighs and goes to sit on the couch with Louie.

“Alright! Let’s get styling!” Della says, touseling Launchpad’s freshly dyed hair. “We probably won’t even have to cut anything substantial.”

“Are you just gonna give him bangs like Uncle Donald had?” Dewey asks.

“Sort of, but not exactly.” Della takes out a cylindrical brush and starts haphazardly backcombing Launchpad’s hair. “This is going to give off some goth vibes and give you more volume!”

Della shakes a can of hairspray harshly. She alternates between teasing Launchpad’s hair with the comb and spraying the life out of it. Both of them start coughing, having inhaled far too much of the contaminated air. 

“Alright everyone, it’s time to break for lunch!” Huey announces.

The room empties gradually as people make finishing touches on their plans. Della unclips the barber cloth from Launchpad’s neck before rushing to catch up to Donald.

Dewey accompanies Launchpad to the dining room, excited to show off the beginnings of his master plan. The long table is more than accommodating for Dewey’s team and piled high with sandwiches courtesy of Duckworth and Beakley. He isn’t exactly sure how a ghost helps with sandwich making, but Dewey doesn’t doubt that Duckworth helped.

“Launchpad, have you done something different with your hair?” Scrooge asks, looking curiously out over a newspaper. He narrows his eyes further when he notices the large group present at the table. 

“Uh, yeah! Yes, I have Mr. McD. No schemes involved,” Launchpad answers with a thumbs up. “Definitely did not have this done by Black Arts Beagle.”

Black Arts waves at Scrooge nervously from his place at the table.

Scrooge sighs deeply. “Right, well, this isn’t my business and I hope it stays that way. I’ve got my own schemes to thwart.”

All three nephews and Webby immediately perk up and crowd around Scrooge.

“Is it a missing artifact?”

“Is it a monster that makes you dance ‘til you drop?”

“Is it Goldie?”

“Is it climate change?”

“What? No!” Scrooge replies, setting down the newspaper. “Besides, you’re all plenty busy turning Launchpad into a delinquent. There’s no room for an adventure today.”

Everyone groans in response. The clock in the dining room only ticks a few times before the kids try again.

“Please, Uncle Scrooge!” 

“We just want to know!”

“Alright, alright,” Scrooge sighs. Donald narrows his eyes at him and Scrooge grimaces. “I’m… being audited.”

“Again?!” Donald asks, throwing his hands on the table. “What did you do this time?”

“Hey, just because someone wants to peruse the accounts of the richest duck in the world doesn’t mean I’ve done anything wrong!” Scrooge says, waving his cane in the air. 

Dewey’s phone, as well as the phone of every other kid at the table, lights up with a text from Lena that reads: Uncle Scrooge, the Ethical trillionaire 🤑😂

“No phones at the table,” Beakley chastises sharply.

“Routine audits are perfectly normal! I don’t like it either, but my investors will have my head if I’m not in compliance!”

“Hey, Uncle Donald?” Huey asks. “Why are you so worked up over this audit anyway?”

Donald doesn’t answer, but Dewey can see that he’s shaking with rage.

“Uncle Scrooge missed one of Donald’s piano recitals during an audit when we were kids,” Della says, getting up from the table. “It’s best to just let them hash it out.” 

Knowing Donald’s temper, the rest of the group follows suit. A few grab a sandwich or two to go; Launchpad takes a whole plate of them.

As soon as the door shuts behind them, everyone’s ears are assaulted by muffled yelling from both Donald and Scrooge, punctuated with crashes of broken glass.

“Well, at least we don’t need Uncle Donald until the attitude portion of the makeover,” Dewey reasons, leading the pack back to the living room.

“How many instruments does Uncle Donald play anyway?” Louie asks. “I’m sure missing one recital isn’t the end of the world.”

Della sucks in a breath, cringing. “It… wasn’t just the one recital.”

“Mr. McDuck has missed a number of Donald’s performances over the years. Some were completely out of his control, but others… weren’t.”

Dewey opens the doors to the living room, only to see a familiar face clad in green tartan.

“Glomgold!?” Everyone cries out.

“What are you doing here?” Dewey asks, pointing at the villain. 

“What? A man cannae spend his free time scoping out a perfectly good scheme?”

“He’s got a point,” Louie adds.

“Does he though?” Huey questions.

Dewey shrugs and points to the couch. “I guess you can join the attitude team.” 

Glomgold sits down with a smug grin. “Ye can’t have a working scheme without Flintheart Glomgold!”

“Right, anyway it’s fashion time! What is Launchpad going to wear?” Dewey claps his hands together and gestures towards the racks of clothes.

“We prepared a lot of different options for Launchpad!” Webby says, running over and pulling an ensemble off of one of the racks.

Lena takes Launchpad over to where a screen had been set up in the room so that he could change in private.

“For the first outfit, we decided to do something adventurous,” Violet explains. “This will help us narrow down the other selections by listening to what he does and does not like from this one.”

Launchpad walks out, grinning uncomfortably and Dewey can almost hear the montage music playing.

He’s wearing a black ruffled button down shirt. Launchpad’s pants are long and baggy, covered in neon green straps. Dewey can’t see the shoes beneath them, but Launchpad looks taller than usual.

“What do you think?” Lena asks, wheeling out a full body mirror for Launchpad.

“I, uh, think this shirt is too tight and stuffy. I feel like I’m going to trip over these pants. I miss my old clothes, especially my hat.”

“Perfect!” Webby says, grabbing the next outfit off of the rack.

After a few agonizing moments, Launchpad emerges from behind the screen wearing a near perfect replica of Lena’s usual outfit, but with added leggings and a floppy black sun hat.

“This doesn’t really feel me enough,” Launchpad says, doing a curtsy in the mirror. 

The next outfit Launchpad steps out in is a replica of the outfit Morgana was wearing in the throwback photo Drake had posted. The red dress had been altered to match Launchpad’s body type. Some of the more creepy jewelry had been swapped out for plane themed jewelry. 

“As much as I fully believe I can rock this dress, wouldn’t it be suspicious if Drake came over and I’m dressed as his ex?” Launchpad questions while posing in front of the mirror.

“It was worth a shot,” Webby says with a shrug.

Launchpad gets sent back behind the screen, only for him to have to ask Della to help him unzip the dress while Webby and Lena throw together another outfit. The following look features a striped shirt with a band shirt layered over top of it, ripped black jeans, and a pair of brand name sneakers.

“Launchpad’s an e-boy now!” Louie laughs, snapping a photo of the sight.

“Huh? Do I need to go to the hospital?” Launchpad asks. He looks at his reflection intently. “Is that a disease?”

“No, it’s just a TikTok thing,” Huey reassures.

Webby hands over a pile of clothes and the waiting begins again.

“TikTok, Vine, Discord… Does anyone remember AOL Instant Messenger?” Della asks, breaking the silence.

“O’course I do!” Glomgold replies vigorously. “My away message was ‘McDuck McSucks’ because I wanted everyone to know Scrooge was me rival!”

If Dewey could place the emotion on his mom’s face it’s somewhere between regret and ‘I hope Donald comes back soon.’

Launchpad comes out wearing something that Dewey can’t really comprehend. There’s some fabric layered around Launchpad’s neck that could be a scarf or just part of a weird shirt. The pants he put on are also unnecessarily drapey. It’s almost as if Launchpad got tangled in some black bed sheets instead of getting dressed. A pair of thick rimmed fake glasses complete the look. Launchpad does a twirl in front of the mirror, nearly knocking it over in the process. 

“Yeah, this one is a no from me,” Dewey says. He walks over to Launchpad to try to figure out the fabrics from a closer perspective. “So is this a scarf or like, a cape, or part of your shirt?”

“Uhh…”

Dewey turns to Violet. “Are you sure this method is going to lead to Launchpad’s perfect date outfit? So far all we’ve had is misses.”

“It’s not a science; a lot of this depends on Launchpad’s willingness to describe what he likes, as well as the limited options we have. We should be close to a winning outfit.”

“Not to mention the clothing team had to remove all of the more scary items,” Huey adds, gesturing to a pile of dark clothes on the floor. “We know how Launchpad gets around anything ghost or ghoul related.”

Launchpad is once again sent back to get dressed. This time he emerges in a corset, suit jacket, top hat, and leather pants. 

Launchpad poses in front of the mirror. “This outfit makes me feel like I need a cane like Mr. McD has!” He tries to mime putting his weight on an imaginary cane, but nearly loses his balance. Once he stabilizes himself, he poses again.

“But do you like it?” Huey asks. “Is this something you would want to wear or is it more like dressing up?”

“Uh… both, I guess?”

Louie speaks up from the couch, not even bothering to look. “Would you wear it to Walmart?”

“Hm,” Launchpad hums in consideration. “I don’t think this outfit is it either.”

Webby nods and goes back to the racks of dark clothing. “Well, let’s try something more casual then.”

Launchpad comes out wearing a Jay Division t-shirt, black shorts, checkered sneakers, and a backwards snapback. When he does his turn in front of the mirror, Dewey can see that the hat has an embroidered rose and the words ‘memento mori’ on the front.

Lena nods in approval. “Joth himbo energy.”

Della raises an eyebrow doubtfully. “I know I was gone for a while, but I really don’t think any of those were real words.”

Louie turns to the group. “On a scale of one to ten, how good of an idea would it be to make mom a dictionary of slang that she’s missed out on for Christmas?”

“Five.”

“Eight.”

“One.”

“Negative ten,” Uncle Donald answers, entering the room and taking up a spot beside his sister.

“What do you think of this outfit, Launchpad?”

Launchpad shrugs. “It’s a lot better, but it still doesn’t feel right. I dunno, am I being too picky?”

“Nonsense!” Dewey shouts. “There’s no such thing as being too picky when you’re getting a makeover! We just need to keep going through outfits.”

“Why not try something like this?” Glomgold asks, waving his phone out for everyone to see. The photo in question is a picture of Launchpad that was edited using Snapchat. His normal every day clothes are haphazardly colored over in edgy hues. 

His chauffeur hat and jacket are colored a dark grey. The jacket’s fur is replaced by a muted purple that really doesn’t fit in with the rest of it. His belt also features the muted purple, with a light grey belt buckle. Launchpad’s normal brown shirt is replaced by a black one that has a white trim around the collar. The tie is colored over in a bright red. His cargo shorts are drawn over in black. Glomgold also drew Launchpad’s new messy black hair and some lines around the eyes and beak that Dewey thinks are meant to be makeup.

Dewey makes a mental note to add Glomgold on Snapchat.

“I think we can do that,” Lena says before pulling a few things off racks.

Violet guides Launchpad back behind the screen to change once more. 

“Wait a minute,” Donald says, narrowing his eyes at Glomgold. “Why is he here?”

Before Glomgold has a chance to escalate anything, Louie places a hand on his shoulder. “He’s joining us on the attitude team.”

“Fantastic,” Donald deadpans.

When Launchpad emerges from behind the screen, he seems almost normal. Some of the items look nearly identical to Glomgold’s attempt, making Dewey think he had been going through the racks of clothes during lunch.

He has on a black collared shirt with a white trim, tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans. Launchpad is wearing a grey belt featuring a red and silver buckle. He has on a clean pair of black converse. Launchpad’s usual brown jacket is replaced by a grey one of the same style. For accessories, he has on a red tie and grey chauffeur’s cap.

When he poses in front of the mirror, Lena is the first to speak up. “Wow, Launchpad looks like a mix between Gerard Wren and Avril Larkvigne!”

“You like My Cockatiel Romance?” Glomgold asks incredulously.

Webby laughs. “Duh, Lena is emo.”

“Speaking of which,” Black Arts says, alerting everyone to the fact that he’s still here. “This look isn’t goth. It’s closer to emo, but really it just looks messy.”

Della hums and tilts her head in concentration. “You’re not wrong but… I think Launchpad has to look messy for this to work. I don’t think it’s believable if he looks put together.”

“Yeah,” Huey agrees. “Launchpad might not be going through a perfect goth makeover, but we keep checking in on his comfort levels. This is a big change to make just to impress a guy.”

Launchpad speaks up, still looking at his own reflection. This time, he’s smiling. “I think I’m happy with these clothes. I’d be fine wearing them to Walmart, or the movies, or a cave, but not like, a scary cave, you know?”

“Success!” Dewey pumps a fist in the air. “How are we doing on time, Huey?”

“Firmly on schedule.”

“Fantastic!” Dewey claps his hands together. “Attitude team, break every leg that you can!”

Launchpad makes his way over to the couch and sits in between Louie and Glomgold. “I don’t really get this part. Shouldn’t I still be me if I want Drake to like me? That’s how we picked the outfit, right?”

“How you act is part of the look! When I traveled back in time and saw Uncle Donald, he was so angry and standoffish,” Dewey explains, pointing at his uncle.

Donald facepalms. “I would say that was 70% unchecked anger, 20% teen angst, and 10% aesthetic.”

“80, 30, 20!” Della corrects from the clothing area of the living room. She’s trying to help the team hang up clothes, but she’s clearly struggling. Dewey watches as his mom contorts the thin metal as a shirt refuses to stay on.

Huey looks up from his clipboard. “Mom, that makes 130%.”

Violet offers to take the offending item of clothing from Della, only for her to double down on her efforts and start humming a familiar tune.

“Launchpad, I think this part is less about changing who you are, but bringing out traits that you already have,” Donald says reassuringly.

“On the other hand,” Glomgold says as if he’s the devil on Launchpad’s shoulder, opposing an angelic Donald. “Pretending to be something you’re not is very hip, fun, and sexy.”

Donald grimaces. “I still don’t understand why you’re here.”

“Why can’t Launchpad just be punk?” Louie asks, changing the subject. “He could just wear a leather jacket and pretend that he doesn’t care about anything.”

“Oh boy,” Donald sighs and then tries to take a deep calming breath. “Punk subculture is very rich and has a deep history. It’s not about not caring, there’s more nuance to it than that, but I don’t have the time or patience to explain it right now.”

“Fine, what do you know about being goth?” Louie asks.

“Honestly, not much.”

Louie nods. “Gotcha. Let me just pull up a WaddleHow article.”

“Really? I hand-picked this team thinking you would know how to help Launchpad and you’re resorting to a WaddleHow article?” Dewey groans exasperatedly.

Launchpad pats Dewey on the head. “Don’t worry, WaddleHow is super trustworthy! I once used WaddleHow to figure out how to use a can opener. If it can teach me how to do that, I’m sure it can teach me how to get in touch with my edgy side.”

“So this article is about how to be goth in middle school, does that work for everyone here?” 

Donald, Dewey, and Glomgold share a look and then shrug.

Louie scrolls down on his phone and begins to read. “The first step to acting goth in middle school is developing an interest in darker subjects, like death and vampires.”

“Launchpad, do you have any dark interests?” Dewey asks.

“Does Darkwing Duck count as a dark interest?” 

“Dark is in the name,” Uncle Donald reasons. “Is that enough though?”

Dewey jumps in before anyone else can. “And that actor guy you admired died in the explosion, right? That’s dark!”

Donald flinches while Louie and Glomgold look at each other with wide eyes. Dewey realizes he might have made a mistake.

“Uh yeah,” Launchpad agrees, with an uncomfortable grin. “That is pretty dark.”

A tense silence follows. Donald looks like he wants to reach out to Launchpad, but doesn’t move to do so. Glomgold is pointedly looking anywhere but the duck sitting beside him. Louie desperately scrolls down on his phone. “The next step to being goth in middle school is tolerance. I think Launchpad has that part locked down!”

“I would argue that the lad is a little too tolerant,” Glomgold supplies. “Tolerant to a fault.”

Uncle Donald relaxes and nods. “As long as Launchpad isn’t afraid of someone, he’s very accepting.”

“See Launchpad, you don’t have to change very much at all to be goth!” Dewey adds encouragingly. He takes Launchpad’s softer, more genuine smile as forgiveness for his earlier misstep. 

“I mean, treat people how you want to be treated, crash planes how you want to be crashed, you know?”

“Yeah, totally!” Dewey lies, knowing that no one else in the room has a clue as to what Launchpad means. 

“So the next step is focusing on your individuality and creativity.”

“This is perfect! No one crashes planes like Launchpad,” Dewey says, gesturing at the duck in question.

“He’s also a very talented script writer!” Glomgold adds. 

Before anyone else can even manage to process what Glomgold said, Launchpad turns to him excitedly. “You read my Darkwing Duck fan scripts?”

“Aye, and I left kudos on them.”

Launchpad hugs a very resistant Glomgold. “Wow, you’re not such a bad guy after all!” 

“It’s not that deep! This isn’t a redemption arc!” Glomgold grumbles, trying to force his way out of the hug to no avail.

Launchpad eventually detaches himself from the villain, and the rest of the group just stares at Glomgold, searching for some sort of explanation. 

It doesn’t take long to irritate him into defending himself. “What? First I’m no’ allowed to scheme, and now I cannae have hobbies? I’m more than just my rivalry with Scrooge McDuck!”

“You’re more of a background character,” Louie says focused on his phone. “So, the last step to acting goth is listening to goth music.”

“Oh no, I’m not doing this!” Donald says, putting his hands up defensively. “We are not redoing the fight from earlier.” 

Louie rolls his eyes. “Relax, Uncle Donald. Black Arts Beagle is too busy preparing with the makeup team.”

“Fine, let’s start by figuring out Launchpad’s tastes and then expand into something more goth,” Donald proposes. He gestures towards Launchpad. “What music do you like to listen to?”

“I love Lil’ Nuthash X!” Launchpad answers excitedly. “Panini is such a great song.”

Launchpad fumbles with his phone for a minute, pulling up spotify and playing ‘Panini’ for the group. 

Louie grabs the phone out of Launchpad’s hand. “I’ll be taking that, thank you!”

Launchpad isn’t offended by the action, but looks towards Louie in confusion. “What are you gonna do?”

“Spotify can show me what your most played songs are, duh! This is the easiest way to get an idea about what you like.”

Louie begins reading off Launchpad’s most songs.

“Darkwing Duck Theme.”

“Should we even count this towards his music taste?” Dewey asks. “Launchpad would like the Darkwing Duck theme no matter what style of music it is.”

“Maybe there are goth songs about nostalgic tv characters,” Glomgold offers.

“Panini by Lil’ Nuthash X.”

“I told you guys,” Launchpad interjects. “It’s a great song!”

“Launchpad likes songs that have a good beat,” Donald says. 

“Boyfriend by Big Time Thrush. Isn’t this song a meme?” Louie clicks on the song in question and the sound of a boy band fills the room.

Launchpad dances where he’s sitting and sings along to the chorus. “You're looking for a boyfriend, I see them.  
Give me time, you know, I'm gonna be that.”

“Yep, definitely the meme song,” Dewey confirms. 

“Don't be scared to crash, put your Justin me.  
Can't you see all I really want to be is your boyfriend?”

“Launchpad, are you sure those are the words?” Donald asks. “I don’t know this song, but that didn’t sound right.”

Launchpad shrugs in response. “I think I got it mostly right. I used to watch the show with my sister all the time.”

Glomgold sighs. “I know we’re trying to make Launchpad goth, but can we please find some DJ Khaled in this playlist? I’m getting bored of this.”

“Next is Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight) by ABBA.”

Glomgold groans in response.

Dewey chimes in. “We don’t have to talk about all of the songs on the playlist. Besides, we have a schedule to keep. We only have until dinner to perfect Launchpad’s attitude.”

“That is true,” Donald agrees, checking the clock. Dewey can tell that he wants this to be over already.

“I guess I’ll just read from the playlist until someone has something to say,” Louie suggests. He waits a few seconds to see if anyone objects before continuing. “Let’s Get Lost by Cardinal Rae Jepsen?”

“Old Town Road by Lil’ Nuthash X?”

“Alien Alien by Nayutalien?”

Dewey can’t stop himself from asking the question that comes to mind. “Isn’t that song by Hummingbird Miku?”

“Miku sings the song, but she’s not the composer!” Lena corrects from across the room.

“Not sure what that means, but thanks!”

Louie resumes reading the list. “Voulez-Vous by ABBA?”

“Harm’s Way by Storkdad?”

“Darkwing Duck by Hot Dove?”

“What is that, a remix of the theme song?” Glomgold asks.

“No!” Launchpad answers far too quickly.

“Oookay, moving on,” Louie says, knowing that they don’t really have the time or the desire to get an explanation out of Launchpad right now. “I Really Like You by Cardinal Rae Jepsen?”

“Yellow by Livetune—that's another Miku song.”

“Cabinet Man by Lapwing Demon?”

Dewey recognizes the song and throws his hands in the air excitedly. “Isn’t that the song about a cyborg arcade cabinet that eats people and drives children mad? That’s gotta count for something!” 

“Cannibalism is pretty edgy,” Glomgold agrees.

Launchpad’s face goes blank, before looking to Dewey with furrowed brows. “Huh? No way! If it was about all that scary stuff, it would be called ‘Scary Game Man Eats Kids And Haunts An Arcade… Man,’ or something.”

Louie looks up from the phone in his hand. “Launchpad, when you listen to music, do you process the lyrics at all?” 

“Uh, sometimes?”

The sound of the living room doors opening and closing causes everyone to turn towards Huey. Dewey hadn’t even noticed that his brother had left the room in the first place. After taking notes on his clipboard, Huey addresses the crowd.

“Mrs. Beakley just let me know that it’s time for dinner. We’re having grilled salmon and there’s enough for everyone.”

Dewey and the attitude team share a worried look. “Well, we’re a bit short on time, so let’s just give Launchpad a quick review. Talk about your darker interests.”

He points to Uncle Donald to continue the recap. “Be accepting and tolerant.”

Glomgold gives Launchpad a thumbs up. “Express your emotions and individuality through art.”

“Avoid talking about music,” Louie adds, handing Launchpad his phone back.

The whole styling team makes their way to the dining room once again. Launchpad is crowded by Lena, Violet, and Webby. Lena tries to show him how to walk without scuffing his shoes while Violet and Webby attempt to teach him proper table manners. 

Dewey starts to think that having two food breaks could have been a mistake, but he knows Launchpad well enough that this couldn’t have been done any other way.

If Uncle Scrooge had been on edge at lunch earlier today, at this point Dewey would say he’s hanging on by a thread. The bags under his eyes combined with his tense posture have Scrooge looking like he lost three days worth of sleep within the past few hours.

Scrooge looks over the table with utensils in hand. He does a double take when his eyes, now visibly twitching, meet Flintheart Glomgold. “What in blazes is he doing here?” 

“Put the knife down, Uncle Scrooge,” Della warns. “Glomgold is just here to help us help Launchpad.”

Scrooge blinks before placing his knife and fork back on the table with care. “It’s just a dinner knife, lass. I wasn’t actually going to attack Flinty. I have combat knives for that.”

An awkward silence hangs over the table until Uncle Scrooge speaks up again, trying to fake being calm. “Tell me, what exactly is it that you’re doing to my chauffeur anyway?”

“We’re helping Launchpad get a date!” Webby exclaims.

“He’s never needed any help before,” Scrooge grumbles, cutting into his salmon harshly. He then puts on his best Launchpad impression. “Oh, Mr. McD, I can’t work today, Oceanica needs me!” 

Uncle Scrooge’s mockery sounds nothing like Launchpad. Dewey would even argue that it’s worse than Glomgold’s accent, but it gets his point across. 

Scrooge takes a bite of salmon. “Sorry, Mr. McD, a Starducks barista stopped me to give me their number. Mr. McD, can I have an advance on my pay? I need to buy party supplies for my boyfriend’s graduation from university!”

“He really does listen to me,” Launchpad thinks out loud, wiping his eyes.

Scrooge switches back to his normal voice, continuing his rant. “Besides, what happened to that purple fellow in the cape? I thought he had great chemistry with Launchpad!”

“That’s who we’re setting Launchpad up with,” Huey clarifies. “You thought they were already dating?”

“Have you seen the way they look at each other?” Scrooge asks, gesturing towards Launchpad. “I don’t think dressing Launchpad up like the sensitive member of a boy group will be necessary.”

Dewey jumps into the conversation. “That’s the idea, Uncle Scrooge! This is just going to prove to Drake that he wanted Launchpad all along! It’s just like the movies.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen any movie like that,” Scrooge muses. “Still, it’s good to know what’s going on.”

“I’ve actually been thinking, and I’ve finally got a good name for when we can turn this into a service.” Dewey explains and then makes a rainbow motion with his hands. “Dewsigns By Dewey.” 

“But you didn’t really ‘dew’ and of the ‘dewsigning’ though,” Lena argues.

Dewey scoffs. “Organization is a central piece to any project!”

“Huey is the one who has kept us running on schedule,” Violet corrects.

Webby shrugs. “She’s got you there.”

“But Huey is doing that because I asked him to! Plus, I’m providing moral support and a vision!” Dewey climbs up on the table and paces around the plates. “Think about how good this could be! We could make it into a web series! We could put it up on Youtube! This could be what finally takes down BuzzardFeed!”

“So you watch Five Minute Crafts, but you draw the line at BuzzardFeed?” Lena asks, head sitting in her own cupped hands, amused.

“We can’t fight every battle at once, Lena!” 

“Unless we can…” Mom says, climbing up on the table to join Dewey. “Quick, what life hacks do you know?”

“You can improvise a grappling hook with a jump rope and a clothes hanger!” Webby shouts immediately.

Dewey puts on his best ‘presentation posture’ and gestures towards something that isn’t there. “If you’re playing with slime and it starts to dry out, just mix in some lotion!” He takes a bow.

After looking around the room in consideration, Huey gives his answer. “If you tie a pen to your clipboard, you always have something to write with!”

“If ye don’t have the money to buy something, just take it! What’re they going tae do, stop you?” Glomgold suggests. 

Webby laughs awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, that’s literally what they’re going to do. Stealing isn’t a life hack, it’s just a crime.”

“Hey, nice effort though,” Della comforts using her best mom voice. “Well, what about you, Launchpad? Do you have any life hacks?”

“Write your name inside your clothes in case you ever get amnesia!” Launchpad answers, taking off his hat as an example. He inspects it carefully and a look of panic falls over his face. “My name isn’t in this hat! Am I still Launchpad?”

Violet pulls a label maker out of her bag and quickly makes one. She passes it around the table until it reaches Huey, who discreetly sticks it inside the hat.

“Try looking again.”

“Phew, crisis averted,” Launchpad places the hat back on his head. “Nice to meet you everyone, my name is Launchpad!”

Uncle Donald makes eye contact with his sister. “Go to therapy,” he suggests.

“That’s a great one!” Della gives Donald a thumbs up. “Let me try… If someone weird asks for your phone number, just give them your number but off by one, so it looks believable!”

Louie slams his hand on the table to get everyone’s attention. “Mark Beaks’ funeral is trending again.”

The reaction is… mild at best. Mark Beaks had pulled a number of stunts for media attention, to varying degrees of success. It seemed that every other week Mark Beaks was dying or claiming to have a new famous relative.

“Do you think it’s real this time?” Huey asks, pulling out his own phone to check Twitter.

“I dunno, but apparently no one showed up to this one.”

“Maybe no one told his family,” Uncle Donald deadpans.

Uncle Scrooge takes advantage of the awkward moment that follows. He clears his throat and excuses himself from the dinner table while muttering about how busy he is. 

“Huey, how are we doing on time?” Dewey asks, hoping his brother takes the hint. They had all apologized profusely for forgetting to tell Uncle Donald that Scrooge had only faked his death. Dewey wasn’t in the mood to unpack all of that again.

Huey checks his watch. “I’ve scheduled in a bit more time for eating.”

“Great!” Dewey lies through his teeth.

Dewey pulls out his phone and opens a group chat labeled ‘Dos Caballeros y Dewey’. He quickly types and sends “Can one of u call Uncle Donald? He looks 😡…”

José responds “what did u do?” followed by a “dew*” text.

Dewey sends out a flurry of messages defending himself:

“I didn’t dew anything!!!”

“He’s been cranky today bc Uncle Scrooge is being audited!”

“Plus he’s got into a screaming match w/ Black Arts Beagle”

“And he’s still not over when everyone forgot to tell him that Uncle Scrooge faked his death.”

Panchito is quick to send back “I’m not over that either ??” and “but no worries niño, we will call Donald!”

Just seconds later Uncle Donald’s phone starts ringing and the annoyed look falls away from his face. “I have to go take this,” he says, excusing himself from the table.

Dewey sends a “thank you 💙💙💙” text to the group chat. Then he sits back down and picks at the rest of his dinner impatiently.

“You told Drake this was a party, right?” Huey asks.

“Yeah, I did. Why do you ask?”

Huey frowns. “We don’t have anything prepared for a party.” 

“Phooey,” Dewey mutters under his breath. “Uh… Can we make a party planning team to set everything up?”

“Webby, Black Arts, and I will be helping Launchpad with his makeup. I’m assuming you will be supervising that. We still have a bunch of people who can take on party set up tasks.”

Dewey looks around the table. “Mom, you go bother Mrs. Beakley about snacks for the party. Lena and Violet can search the house for decorations that aren’t haunted. Glomgold and Louie will set up the living room for a movie marathon. Does that sound good?”

He watches as those seated at the table nod or voice their agreement. 

“Great! We are really getting down to it now. Alright makeup team, time to go make Launchpad beautiful!”

Everyone finishes what is left of their dinner and moves to go work on the tasks ahead of them. Della heads out to the kitchen. Lena and Violet head upstairs with a sketch of a map that Webby provided them. The remaining members of the group walk back to the living room.

“So uh,” Launchpad starts. He hesitates before continuing the question on his mind. “Does makeup hurt? I’ve seen other people do it but I’ve never done it before.”

“Only if you do it wrong,” Black Arts Beagle answers cryptically. “Have no fear, Launchpad! You will be in the hands of a true master.”

Launchpad settles back into the makeshift salon in the living room. Huey, Webby, and Dewey crowd around the chair as Black Arts gets out a number of products and brushes. 

“So, Webby and I did a little bit of research on the types of makeup that goth people wear—”

“And we made a scrapbook!” Webby shouts, producing a colorful binder.

“—and it seems to depend heavily on what subculture you’re in. We overheard the attitude team talking about the importance of individuality, so we’re just going to talk you through some looks and you can tell us what you like.”

Webby starts to open up the scrapbook when Launchpad’s phone lights up, playing a pop song that none of them recognize. 

“Hold on guys, I’m getting a video call from my sister!” Launchpad fumbles with his phone for a moment. “Loopey!”

“Hey, Launchpad! Whoa, what happened?” An unfamiliar voice asks. 

The kids all angle themselves to get a better view of the screen. The duck on the other side of the call is decked out in pink and looking concerned.

“I’m getting a goth makeover to go on a date!”

“Seriously? Launchpad you’re like, the least goth guy I know!” Loopey laughs.

“That’s why I’m going through the makeover! I changed my hair, I got these new clothes, and I’ve gotten in touch with my inner darkness!”

Black Arts Beagle scoffs. “Don’t listen to her, Launchpad. Your sister is a prep.”

“Dude, what? Who talks like that?” Huey questions.

Loopey frowns. “Are you sure this is a good idea? You shouldn’t have to make big changes just to impress someone for a date.”

“Dewey said it would help Drake realize I was what he wanted all along,” Launchpad says, averting his eyes as if it would prevent his sister from seeing the blush coating his face.

Dewey snatches the phone from Launchpad’s hand. “What do you think, Loopey?” He selects the rear facing camera and backs up far enough that all of Launchpad is in the shot. “Have we taken your big brother from Launchpad McQuack to Launchpad McSnack or what?”

Loopey immediately breaks in uncontrollable laughter. “Launchpad, these kids you hang with are totally extra. I can see why you like working for Scrooge McDuck so much.”

Dewey hands the phone back to Launchpad.

“Yeah, everyone here is great! You should visit more often.” Launchpad says. “Not that I don’t appreciate hearing from you, Loopey, but did you have a reason for calling?”

“Oh yeah! I wanted your help with my homework. I’ve got this Linear Programming optimization problem and I put it into standard form. I think I got it down right and set up the matrix correctly, but the solution for the system I’m getting isn’t right.”

Loopey shows a bunch of numbers organized into boxes all written out in a gel pen. It looks like it might be math, but Dewey doesn’t look at it hard enough to try to understand any of it.

“Hmmm,” Launchpad hums, looking at the phone intently. “What if you reorganize the rows of the matrix so that it’s strictly diagonally dominant? Then you could use one of the iterative methods to find the least squares solution. It’s all systems of equations, right?”

A palpable wave of confusion washes over the room as the entire team now listens in to the phone call. 

“One, I have no clue what you’re talking about. Two, that won’t help when I have to use the Simplex Method on my exam next week.”

“Aw, I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful, Loopey. You’re gonna do a great job though, you always do!” 

Dewey reaches up and taps Launchpad’s arm to get his attention. “Launchpad, what’s thirteen minus eight?” 

“Uhh, seven?”

Dewey looks to Huey, who gives a sad looking thumbs up. He sighs in relief. “Thought we lost you there for a minute, buddy.”

Huey awkwardly maneuvers into view of the front facing camera and waves. “Hey, Loopey! Good to see you! I hate to interrupt your studying, but I was wondering if you could help us out a bit.”

“I'd be happy to help! What’s up?”

“We want to make Launchpad look edgier, but we don’t want to scare him. Do you have any recommendations?”

Loopey looks up in thought. “Ah, I would say to just keep it simple. Launchpad’s biggest strength is his personality, we can’t drown that out.” 

Dewey watches the Launchpad in the corner of the screen smile.

“Aw, thanks, Loopey!” 

“Like that time he got so embarrassed that he wore a bag on his head for weeks! It was so funny but we all felt super bad. It really wasn’t a big deal, but he was totally mortified.”

The smile falls from Launchpad’s face and Dewey pushes his way to the front. “Tell us more embarrassing stories about Launchpad!”

“Launchpad, why didn’t you tell us that your sister is so cool and funny?” Webby asks.

Loopey laughs again. “I’d love to stay and talk longer, but I’ve got an exam to prepare for and you all have a Launchpad to dress up!”

Huey, Webby, and Dewey all express their disappointment through various ‘awww’ sounds. 

“You’ll have to come down to Duckburg soon! Maybe even bring mom and dad!” 

“Hopefully you can introduce us to a boyfriend the next time we visit!” Loopey says with a wink. 

They finish up their goodbyes, taking almost as much time as it does to finish a phone call with Uncle Donald. 

When Launchpad hangs up the call, Webby breaks out the scrapbook. “This first page is full of cybergoth looks!”

Huey places a hand over the neon filled page. “Wait, wait, wait. We should follow Loopey’s advice and just keep it simple.”

He starts taking out pages and letting them fall to the floor. Dewey misses most of them, but sees titles like ‘pastel goth,’ ‘visual kei,’ and ‘steampunk’ among the pile. 

“Alright, we’ve got it down to just the simple goth styles. Take a look through this and tell us what you like!” 

The new first page of the scrapbook features a collage of different looks that all match Dewey’s preconceived notions. There’s thick eyeliner, dark shadows, and bold lipsticks. Many of the faces have piercings.

After looking for a bit, Launchpad turns the page to see an aesthetic that looks a bit more corpse-like. The faces are unnaturally pale with heavy contour. 

There’s a page focused more on eye makeup. Heavy shadows of varying colors paint pictures on the faces in the collage. The eyeliner is used to make more creative shapes and wings. Dewey thinks back to the point on individuality again.

Launchpad flips back and forth between the pages for a bit before settling back on the first one. “I think starting out with something basic would be a good idea.”

“It would also match your outfit better than some of the more ambitious styles,” Huey agrees.

Webby points to one of the pictures on the page. “And if you ever want to do your makeup yourself, something like this will be easier to recreate!”

“Alright, let's do this!” Launchpad says confidently.

Black Arts spins the chair around. “It is important that you remain calm, even though the dark forces may incline you to flinch away.”

Launchpad nods but looks a lot less confident than before. Black Arts gets close to Launchpad’s face, holding a brush and a container of gel eyeliner. He dips the brush into the gel and sets the container down, then he places his free hand on Launchpad’s face. 

Black Arts carefully draws lines around the edges of Launchpad’s eyes. It isn’t as thick as his own eyeliner, but it’s enough to make Launchpad’s eyes pop. The black lines really pull Launchpad’s whole look together.

The chair is spun around so that Launchpad is facing the mirror. “Are you satisfied?” Black Arts asks. 

Launchpad scoots closer to the mirror. “Wow, I look so cool and edgy!” 

“Launchpad looks like he’s in a boyband marketed towards troubled teens!” Webby adds excitedly.

Black Arts picks up a box. “Would you like to browse my selection of lip colors?”

Huey grabs it from him. “Darkest Night. Dried Blood. Wet Blood. Poison. Poison 2. Skull Powder. Rotting Wood. Red. Electric Blue. Black Coffee.”

“I think a plain black one would look nice,” Webby suggests. “It’s simple and classy.”

Dewey stares at Launchpad’s face. “I agree. A different color would make it too busy.”

Huey’s watch alarm goes off. “Alright, well we better make this choice count. Drake should be showing up within the next ten minutes or so.”

“Does anyone else feel nauseous or is it just me?” Dewey asks.

“Huh, I do too. That’s really strange,” Launchpad says. “Do you think it’s aliens? There was this movie where aliens invaded and messed with everyone’s heads. What if Dewey and I are infected?”

Webby shakes Launchpad forcefully. “Launchpad, it’s not aliens. You’re just nervous about your date with Drake!”

Launchpad’s panicked face transforms into a grimace. “Oh! Right, I am nervous.” 

“Everything is gonna go great,” Dewey says reassuringly. “I need to check on the other teams progress and then go get Drake.”

“We’re fine!” Louie says from the couch.

Louie and Glomgold managed to set the tv up for a movie marathon. The table is covered in an array of different snacks. A strange mixture of Christmas lights, birthday banners, and Arbor Day signs cover the walls of the room.

“This looks amazing!” Dewey exclaims. “How did none of us notice you doing all of that?”

Louie shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. Go get Launchpad’s dream guy.”

Dewey heads out of the room only to be followed by Mrs. Beakley. They make their way to the front hall silently. He knows that she is the housekeeper, but having her greet Drake could ruin Launchpad’s big moment. 

At 7 o’clock exactly, Drake arrives at the front gate on his motorcycle. Dewey watches from one of the front windows as the man awkwardly paces and gestures. 

“Should we buzz him in?” Beakley asks, looking for any excuse to expedite this scheme.

Dewey waves her off. “I kind of want to see where this goes.” 

A static-filled version of the actor’s voice fills the room. “I am the terror that flaps in the night, I am the… guest of Launchpad..? I am Da-Drake Mallard.”

“We should have just buzzed him in,” Dewey admits.

Mrs. Beakley makes the effort to let Drake through the gate. “It’s hard to believe that Launchpad is nervous about seeing this man.”

It takes some time for Drake to make his way up to the front door. Dewey spends the moment fixing his hair and wishing that he had gotten a makeover himself. 

The doorbell rings and Mrs. Beakley opens the door. “Good evening, Mr. Mallard. We’ve been expecting—”

“Hey, Drake!” Dewey interrupts, grabbing the man’s hand. “Let me take you to where the party is.”

“Oh, right, thanks. Thank you all for having me,” Drake says, letting Dewey pull him further into the manor.

Dewey tolerates Drake. It’s hard to get along with the guy who takes up your best friend’s time and attention. So they walk silently towards the living room.

Until Drake speaks up. “Interesting decorations,” he says, looking at a witch wearing a Santa hat.

“Yeah, it’s a new holiday,” Dewey lies, not trying any harder to convince Drake.

“It, uh, kind of reminds me of the Darkwing Duck episode where the villainous Doctor Bushroot tried to steal Christmas,” Drake chuckles. “I feel like the wreaths are going to come to life and tell me about how much capitalism sucks.”

Dewey stops. “You mean like the Grinch?”

“What?”

Dewey drops the actor’s hand and backs up. “Wait, wait, wait. Have you ever consumed any media that isn’t Darkwing Duck?”

“I don’t have to answer that,” Drake deflects, crossing his arms.

Dewey rolls his eyes. “Well, if you’re going to be friends with my best friend, I'm going to have to teach you about culture. Maybe we should start the movie marathon with Descendants. Please tell me you’ve heard of it; it’s only the second best made-for-TV movie musical franchise in the world!”

Drake looks offended, and Dewey starts to realize that implying that the guy he’s trying to set up with Launchpad knows nothing about culture might be a bad idea. 

“The first best made-for-TV movie musical franchise better be High School Musical,” Drake grumbles in response, looking away from Dewey.

“Of course it is!” Dewey says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, which it is. “You know what? I changed my mind. I do approve of you, at least somewhat.”

Drake almost smiles, until a realization hits him, and his face turns sour. “You, uh, didn’t approve of me before?”

Geez, this guy’s skin is thinner than the ice on Huey’s hyper-realistic climate change diorama.

“It’s nothing personal,” Dewey admits. “Launchpad is a good friend of mine, so I want to protect him.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Drake says, looking at his own hands. “Protecting the people you care about is the most important thing you can do.”

Dewey considers telling the man that it’s honestly not that deep, but he restrains himself. Instead, he grabs Drake’s open hand and once again pulls him in the direction of the party.

“Why did you invite me to this party?” Drake asks. “You said you weren’t fond of me earlier, so why bother inviting me?”

“Launchpad was sad this morning and I thought it would cheer him up,” Dewey answers. It’s not technically a lie, and hopefully it’s enough to get Drake to stop being so self conscious around him. Dewey gets needing constant reassurance and attention, but wow, Drake is a lot to deal with.

“Launchpad was upset? Did something happen to him?” The tone of Drake’s voice seemed to change completely, now drenched in concern.

Dewey isn’t the most convincing liar, but omission is usually a safe bet. “It was uh, more of a self-doubt thing.”

What Drake says next actually surprises Dewey. 

“As much as I wish Launchpad would talk to me more about his issues, I’m really glad that he has a friend like you to help out.”

It’s soft and genuine. More importantly, it reassures Dewey that his plan is going to work. If Drake hasn’t fallen head of heels for Launchpad yet, he’s about to.

“Everyone here cares about him a lot,” Dewey says, openly telling the whole truth. He stops them in front of the door to the living room. “The party awaits, my good sir!”

Dewey bows and opens the double doors to the room. He looks in to see everyone perfectly in their places, no evidence of the chaos from earlier that day.

“...Launchpad?” 

Even though Dewey couldn’t see the facial expression of the duck beside him, he could practically hear the heart-eyes emoji in Drake’s voice.

Of course, the movie magic is immediately broken when Launchpad stands up. “Oh! Hey, DW, uh, Drake!” He accidentally flips the table in front of him, causing all of the previously prepared snacks to fall to the floor. 

A crashing wave of music fills the room with an unsettling waltz. Drake is stepping in time towards Launchpad, and then he starts singing.

_The treacherous traitorous trembling_

The mess on the floor isn’t there anymore, the room isn’t there anymore. Launchpad steps towards Drake and sings his own thoughts.

_Be calm be cool don’t act like fool_

A bit off key and out of tune of the waltz, but Dewey chalks it all up to nervousness. Drake and Launchpad dance together, stepping circles around what once was the living room. 

_My messy mind manifesting_

It reminds Dewey of the scene from the rooftop in High School Musical 3. Well, almost. Nothing could compare to the magic of that song, especially when paired with the right choreography.

_This could be my—_

_This could be our—_

Dewey loves a good harmony, and he thinks Drake and Launchpad do it well. The music continues to build around them as they sing and sway. 

_Chance_

_Dance_

The music stops. Not abruptly, but with just the right fade out.

They embrace, and Launchpad leans down to whisper in Drake’s ear. “Being with you feels like all the best parts of a plane crash—It’s exciting, intense, comfortable, and even a little bit scary.”

Drake pulls away, not completely, but just enough, and goes in for the—-

—hand in front of his face. Webby’s voice calling his name. Her hand is waving back and forth and she’s shaking him and that has nothing to do with Drake and Launchpad’s movie moment.

“Dude, are you okay? You’ve been bouncing in place for like 3 minutes.”

He snaps out of the trance-like state he was in. The two adults in question were sweeping up the mess off the floor, very careful to not touch each other.

Dewey groans. This is a total disaster. Without a magical movie moment, Launchpad will never go back to normal.

“If I had known this was a costume party I would have dressed up, but uh, you’re the only one dressed any differently,” Drake says, emptying the dustpan into the trash.

“This isn’t a costume,” Launchpad answers dejectedly. “I’m trying out a new look, you don’t like it?”

Drake pauses. “What? Of course, I like it! It just didn’t seem like your style, but really only you know that. Make any change you want, as long as you’re being true to yourself!” 

Dewey flinches, watching the cogs turn in Launchpad’s head. Louie, from his position on the couch, starts counting down with his fingers.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1–

“I don’t think I’m being true to myself at all!” Launchpad confesses on cue. Several people in the room facepalm, Dewey included. “Some of these clothes are weird and wearing makeup isn’t comfortable! I keep thinking that I’ve smudged it!”

“Hey big guy,” Drake soothes, placing a hand on Launchpad’s chest. “You don’t have to take this many big steps at once. If you want, we can talk about this later, but how about you go get changed while I finish cleaning up this mess?”

It’s almost like they forgot about the other people in the room. At the very least, they forgot about Lena, who is absolutely going to post this on her TikTok. Dewey makes sure he’s out of frame before giving her a dirty look. Yes, Launchpad and Drake are the most embarrassing adults they know, but posting this for all of Duckberg to see? That’s just too much, and it makes Dewey’s matchmaking/makeover service look bad.

Drake escorts Launchpad out of the room and then shuts the door, turning to the crowd of party guests. “Okay, we need to talk.”

Everyone looks at Dewey. “Oh, come on! This wasn’t all me!”

“Why did Launchpad get all dressed up?” Drake asks in his Darkwing Duck voice. That alone almost made Dewey laugh, but it’s honestly kind of sweet how far he’ll go when Launchpad is upset.

“Look, I might have had a hand in convincing him to do it, but his reasons are his own,” Dewey argues. 

Drake pinches his brow, clearly frustrated. “It just doesn’t make sense why he would make himself uncomfortable.” 

He opens his mouth to speak, but can’t find the right words. There’s no way Dewey could betray Launchpad like that.

The actor narrows his eyes at Dewey. Then he sighs and goes back to the mess on the floor. If passive-aggressive cleaning was a sport, Drake is definitely a threat to Beakley’s gold medal. He sweeps quietly, only making enough noise to keep his presence at the forefront of everyone’s mind. Dewey feels like he swallowed a large rock.

Louie rolls his eyes, somehow unaffected by the horrible quiet. “I’m not a narc, but if this doesn’t get wrapped up soon, I’m going to get really annoyed. Let’s just say that Launchpad wanted to impress you.”

“What?” Drake laughs, looking up from the floor. “Launchpad doesn’t need to try to impress me. He does already, since the first time we met at the sofa store.”

“Wait, for real?” Launchpad asks, having just opened the door to the room, back in his normal attire. 

Drake flushes at the question, losing any illusion of calm. “Well, yeah,” he admits, turning to see Launchpad. “You were always so cool and you believed in me when no one else did. You also tried to sabotage my career, but that’s all water under the bridge.”

“What bridge? The Audubon Bay Bridge?” Launchpad asks, not quite catching on.

Drake gets up and moves to sit on the couch. “No, I meant that it doesn’t matter. We both just wanted to make the best movie possible.”

“Oh, yeah,” Launchpad agrees, going to sit next to Drake with a frown. “Drake, I really like you. I’m sorry that I’m telling you like this and that I made you come to a weird party, and I almost cried earlier. I was just feeling down today, because I know I’m not your type, and Dewey thought he could help. It wasn’t fair to you though.”

“What?” Drake asks. 

“I mean, it just isn’t right for me to pretend to be someone I’m not to get you to return my feelings. This idea really just hurts everyone involved and I shouldn’t have gone along with it just because I was sad.”

Drake puts his hand on Launchpad’s shoulder and laughs. “I guess you’re not wrong but, why don’t you think you’re my type?”

“Well,” Launchpad starts. “Morgana’s all dark and creepy looking, and I’m none of that.” He gestures at himself to clarify.

“You’re jealous of Morgana?” Drake asks in disbelief. “LP, just because I dated Morgana back in college doesn’t mean that I’m not into you, which I very much am.”

“You are?”

Louie groans again. “Can we wrap this up? This whole thing could have been avoided if you just talked to each other instead of listening to Dewey.”

“Hey,” Dewey cries out defensively. “My makeover/matchmaking service worked perfectly!”

“How about we just start the party?” Huey suggests, pressing play on the remote.

Everyone huddles on and around the couch to watch the first movie. Dewey wouldn’t call it a movie though, really it was just a few episodes of Ottoman Empire cut together to equal the length of a movie. Louie’s pick, obviously.

Over the course of the party people get bored and start doing their own thing, which Dewey doesn’t really mind. This party isn’t about him and the nature documentary about sharks currently on is super boring. He chooses to pay attention to Launchpad and Drake instead.

Drake tousles Launchpad’s hair. “Please tell me you didn’t use permanent dye.”

“Of course, I…. didn’t?” Launchpad lies, avoiding eye contact and offering a pained grin.

Drake sighs, but his face is overcome by fondness. Dewey hopes they learn how to not act so sickeningly sweet in front of other people. Maybe there’s a WaddleHow article for that. 

Not long after that Drake leaves the room to take a call and Dewey steals his spot on the couch next to Launchpad. They try to engage in the shark documentary, only for Glomgold to correct them any time a common misconception pops up. Eventually Drake returns, beaming.

“The paperwork has finally gone through for Gosalyn’s adoption!” 

Launchpad brightens, mirroring Drake’s energy. “Seriously? DW, this is so exciting for you!”

Drake sits beside Dewey, gesturing animatedly. “I’m a little suspicious that Scrooge might have pulled some strings for me, but I’m completely okay with that if it means Gosalyn gets to come home sooner.”

“So uh,” Dewey speaks up. “Who is Gosalyn?”

“She’s great,” Launchpad answers. “Gosalyn is a fantastic kid with a heck of a lot of spirit. She recently lost her grandpa, and it’s been hard on her.”

Drake pulls out a photo of a red headed duck smugly holding a hockey stick. 

“I know I can’t replace her family, but I want to build a new family with her. I see parts of myself in her and I want to protect her, not only as Darkwing Duck, but as a dad too.”

The smile on Drake’s face is both fond and sad, similar to the way he looks at Launchpad, but not quite the same.

“You’re gonna do a great job, DW.”

“Thanks, LP.”

Drake searches his phone for more pictures of her, only to hear a chime as a banner appears at the top of his screen.

“Oh, hold on. I just got a Twitter notification”

“Did Lil’ Nuthash X drop a new song?” Launchpad asks excitedly.

“No, it’s a uh, it’s a tweet from Jim Starling’s official account—that I’m tagged in.”

“Didn’t that guy die in the explosion at the studio?”

Drake cringes visibly. “That’s what we thought, but now I’m not so sure.” He lets out a nervous laugh and turns his phone so everyone can see it, shaking slightly.

There’s an image of Jim Starling, with wide eyes and a sharp, creepy grin. Past the menacing gleam, the man looks like he hasn’t gotten proper sleep in days. Not much could be said about his hygiene situation either. He’s wearing a torn up yellow and red version of the original Darkwing Duck costume. The caption reads ‘I lived bitch @drakemallard’.

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck it
> 
> Lanchpad


End file.
